


Tea and Nonsense

by Verabird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Forehead Kisses, Gardening, Grumpy Old Man Javert, M/M, Valjean & His Grandchildren, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7679491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verabird/pseuds/Verabird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Valjean told them fanciful stories and threw them in the air, and light as they were his great strength made for easy games. He let them kneel in the flowerbeds and tend to the vegetables, and young children have such an affinity for dirt and colourful things. Valjean let them curl their fingers through his white hair, and when they pulled he did not seem to mind, and when one or the other started to cry Valjean’s comforting hands were enough to quiet them.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Javert had never felt a compulsion to have children at any stage in his life, and in his Autumn years he wanted them around even less. They tried his patience more than any stubborn case. They were messy and left disorder in their wake, they were loud and uninterested in listening to him recite scripture, they would not stay still, and when they pulled at his hair he had not the patience of Valjean and he did mind a great deal.</em></p><p> </p><p>Cosette and Marius bring their children round to see Valjean and Javert. </p><p>Javert might just allow one to sit on his lap if it makes Valjean happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea and Nonsense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leviafan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviafan/gifts).



“You have a predisposition towards children that I simply do not have.”

“Nonsense Javert, you behave quite well around them.”

Javert’s countenance appeared dark despite Valjean’s attempt at a broad and cheery smile. His brow furrowed with an intensity that looked almost painful, and eventually Valjean was forced to lean forward and press the Inspector’s arm. His hand fit perfectly in the crook of Javert’s elbow and he squeezed with an action he thought was comforting.

Javert glanced at the hand, fixated on it for a few moments, then slid it off his arm without performance and moved further into the house. Valjean sighed and followed him, trailing tentatively at his heels.

“No one could possibly remain so miserable when the house is full of children,” Valjean said, resisting the urge to press Javert’s arm again. “What is it that makes you so vexed?”

“I do not think they like me.”

“Again, this is nonsense, they like you well enough.”

“I fear Cosette does not think I try hard enough, and the Pontmercy boy has never approved of me. I can barely go near one of the things without feeling his eyes upon me.”

Valjean clicked his tongue and rolled his bottom lip nervously between his teeth. Javert was a difficult puzzle to make out and it was hard to decide whether Javert was truly annoyed that children didn’t like him, or whether his irritation was based on finding something he was not good at.

It was true that the Cosette’s two children, both beautiful girls that Valjean swore had the eyes of Fantine, preferred to sit on the lap of their grandfather rather than the formidable police inspector. Valjean told them fanciful stories and threw them in the air, and light as they were his great strength made for easy games. He let them kneel in the flowerbeds and tend to the vegetables, and young children have such an affinity for dirt and colourful things. Valjean let them curl their fingers through his white hair, and when they pulled he did not seem to mind, and when one or the other started to cry Valjean’s comforting hands were enough to quiet them.

Javert had never felt a compulsion to have children at any stage in his life, and in his Autumn years he wanted them around even less. They tried his patience more than any stubborn case. They were messy and left disorder in their wake, they were loud and uninterested in listening to him recite scripture, they would not stay still, and when they pulled at his hair he had not the patience of Valjean and he did mind a great deal.

“You must try,” Valjean said, his voice as soft as he could make it. “I will try my best to entertain them both, but I cannot very well ask Cosette to leave them at home, she is barely able to let them out of her sight for a minute.”

“There are plenty of respectable women in Paris who would be more than capable of looking after two children for a few hours.” Javert sniffed. “Even those two children.”

“They are not unlike other children, you are just not used to them.”

“I do not see when you had the time to become used to all these children.”

Valjean lowered his eyes from Javert’s stern gaze and reminded himself that the glare was not directed at him, it was just Javert’s way of pronouncing things. “It was the eyes of a hungry child that sent me on this journey in the first place. My sister’s household was full of such children.”

Javert too fell silent, the breeze that fluttered in throught the slattered door suddenly acutely loud and intent on making its cool presence known to the room. Now it was his turn to lean forward and press Valjean’s arm.

“My apologies,” He said stiffly. “I have made this about myself when it is not about myself at all.”

“I will not take your apologies, I do not regret that decision. I cannot, it is too far in the past to bear thinking.”

Javert looked as if he were about to argue and so Valjean inclined his head until they were so close their foreheads touched. “Do not think too hard,” He said softly, catching Javert’s response. “A few hours is a very short time in the grand scheme of things.”

“You confuse me.” Javert sighed and allowed Valjean to embrace him, tucking himself neatly in the crook of his shoulder. “I will try my best to put up a pretence.”

“Perhaps today is the day you shall learn to love them and it will no longer be a pretence.”

Javert ‘hmphed’, but his annoyance had dissipated in Valjean’s arms. Valjean kissed the top of Javert’s forehead and let him go. “I am going to fetch some herbs for dinner and then I might help in the kitchen.”

“We have a servant for such things,” Javert said quickly before he could stop himself. “What I mean to say is, it would be unbecoming now you are a gentleman and father-in-law to a respected lawyer, and I hesitate to think what Cosette will say.”

“You mean no such thing, and Cosette would think nothing of it. Now, I suggest to allow yourself some time alone with your thoughts before the house becomes overrun and you will have no time to think.”

 

* * *

 

  


Javert begrudginly took Valjean’s advice and eased himself into one of the comfortable armchairs adjacent to the fire. He prodded it occasionally with the poker, appreciating the warmth. On his lap he beheld several treatises pertaining to Parisian law which he perused with his usual intensity, stopping every now and then to look out the low window that had a view of the garden. Valjean had his back to the house, he was in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves only, and these were rolled up to the elbows. His hands were working the soil with practised ease and the pile of vegetables beside him was growing. It was a pleasant sight.

Javert smiled rarely, and only when he was certain no one was watching. He allowed himself one of these precious smiles now as he watched Valjean work in concentration. Javert said a quick prayer of thankfulness, for truly he was grateful at what they had become. His former self would never believe two such people could co-exist in such peace, and yet here they both were.

He scratched at his whiskers thoughtfully. During the day, Valjean tended their own garden with great care, he walked in the public gardens of Paris, he attended speakers who positioned themselves along the pathways and spoke of poverty and action, he distributed alms, and at the end of the day he waited for Javert to return home. It was such dutiful action that Javert was both surprised and grateful to return to the house on Rue Plumet after a grueling day at work to find Valjean bright eyed and waiting for him. Javert was a blessed man, he thought, he did not deserve this kindness.

They could live on Valjean’s fortune of savings alone, yet Javert would not allow it. He had never taken well to charity, and instead kept his post in the Prefecture, working solid hours and doing good deeds. He would maintain himself at all costs, for never did he wish to be a burden on Valjean again.

He was so lost in thought a piece of paper had slipped from his lap and drifted dangerously close to the fire. He was only started by the sharp knock on the door which roused him significantly. He scrambled to pick up the paper and replaced it on the pile before standing and making his way to the window.

“Valjean!” He called, watching as the man started and then turned towards the house with an expression of pure delight. He brushed his hands on his trousers and hurried towards the gate.

“They are earlier than expected,” Valjean exclaimed breathlessly, quickly rolling down his sleeves. “I shouldn’t receive guests in this state.”

“They will not mind,” Javert said pragmatically. “Although you should wash your hands before shaking one of Pontmercy’s.”

“I am sure he would be happy to hear you call him Marius.”

“That is for him to initiate, not I.”

“He would never, he is far too afraid of you.”

Javert led the way into the hall, adjusting his own waistcoat in the hanging mirror and running his hand over his whiskers.

Valjean smiled at him. “You look quite handsome.”

“You would say so.”

“It is true. Am I presentable enough?”

Javert gave him an appraisal. “Enough. Although you have…” He trailed off and lifted a hand to Valjean’s face, touching his cheek gently and then wiping away some soil with his thumb. “Better now.”

He stepped aside and allowed Valjean to open the door so that he might accost Cosette with embraces and kisses first.

Valjean stepped forward to embrace Cosette with fervour and Javert felt his mouth twitch in response. It was not quite a smile, but it was enough. Cosette had one child balanced on her hip, the smallest of the two, and the older was clutching her hand tightly and standing on wobbly feet. Marius was paying the driver of the carriage some distance away down the path, fumbling in his pockets, looking not quite put together, before he headed towards the door.

Valjean spread his arms in greeting and wrapped them tight around his daughter for a long moment before she laughed, a radiant sound, and pulled back.

"Papa, let me embrace you properly." She raised the child that clung to her hip and held her out to Javert. "Would you hold little Fantine for a moment, Inspector?"

Javert glanced sideways at Valjean who reflected his bemused expression back at him, then he stared at the baby Fantine who was wriggling her legs violently and reaching out her hands for him. His mouth fell open as he waited for a reply to fill it, but he could think of no excuses. Gingerly, he extended his own hands and took the baby from Cosette, holding her out at arms-length whilst father and daughter had their proper greeting.

He held her as if she were a piece of evidence that should not be tainted, careful that the flailing hands should not touch him. After what seemed like an age, Cosette relieved him of his burden.

"Thank you, Inspector." She smiled sweetly at him, brushed a curl back from Fantine's forehead and hoisted her once more into a secure position.

"It is no trouble," Javert replied with severity, trying not to look at Valjean in the process. "Please come through."

Cosette followed Valjean through into their small parlour, whilst Marius hovered in the doorway, attempting and failing to look composed.

"Monsieur Pontmercy," Javert said stiffly, holding out his hand. Marius took it nervously, but waited for Javert to lead the shake. Javert made sure to squeeze firmly and hold Marius' gaze even though Marius behaved like a wet fish throughout the ordeal.

"Monsieur l'Inspecteur, it is so...good to see you again." The hesitation was on Marius' part due to his nervousness, he was not trying to be impertinent, and Javert understood this perfectly. Cosette's husband often appeared as a rabbit in the torchlight, but Javert understood the predisposition to be wary of severe men and loud noises.

"Likewise," Javert said, then remembering Valjean's earlier words he added; "Although, Monsieur l'Inspecteur is such a formal title I am not particularly fond of. Javert will suffice."

He said it in such a manner that the matter should be considered final and he would accept no complaints, therefore Marius nodded hastily and took Javert's hand again, lifting it higher as he bowed. "I should like nothing better, and if you would call me Marius, well, that would make me very happy indeed." He laughed nervously.

Javert did not reciprocate this laugh, but he inclined his head amiably. He led the way into the sitting room where Cosette and Valjean were already seated, Fantine was in her lap, waving her arms excitedly. Eponine, the older of the two girls, crawled between various chair and sofa legs. Valjean was seated in a chair, but he was practically bent double as he coaxed her forward with the placated palms of his hands.

"Come here little one!" He said, delight filling his voice. Javert noticed the crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. It was a different kind of smile to the ones he gave Javert, so full of glee, exuding an effulgence. Eponine shrieked with a similar glee and began crawling as fast as her little legs would carry her across the rug to Valjean's open arms. He scooped her up in one fell swoop and she began giggling, shrieking once more as Valjean threw her into the air, barely letting go at all, but enough to cause a high-pitched sound of delight.

"Gr-pa!" The small child cried out, a broken set of sounds, but recognisable just the same. Javert's heart could have melted at the smile Valjean gave in return for hearing the word. He sat down beside Cosette and watched as Valjean spun Eponine so she was facing him and began to indulge her in a game of patter cake.

"He is so good with her," Cosette said, wistful as she watched. "With both of them really."

"He had his practise with you, Mademoiselle," Javert replied, diplomatic as always. He accepted the tea that was brought in by Toussaint, pouring no milk but taking three sugars.

"There was not much time for playing, I recall moments like these in the cold and the woods, but they are misty memories. Afterwards, in the convent, I do not think he would have deigned such games appropriate, and I was far too old to be lifted when we left."

Javert was not quite sure what to say. Perhaps Valjean would have been able to play childish games with his little girl had it not been for Javert's involvement. He did not have a reply to this. "You are right," He said finally. "I never see him happier as on the days you come to visit."

"I am sure you have seen him happier many times." Cosette's tone was teasing as she poured her own tea and applied copious amounts of milk. "I am glad he has found a companion, I was so worried he would be alone when I left, but then you came along as if fallen from the sky."

"I am no angel."

Valjean had been engaged with Eponine all this time, unaware of Cosette and Javert's conversation as he played with the child. At these words of Javert's he glanced up, a small smile crooked at the corner of his mouth. "You were more than my saving grace."

"I am far from infallible."

"If you were not I would be worried."

Cosette laughed and shifted Fantine on her lap so that she could reach her tea. As she stretched out she suddenly winced, an action that did not go unnoticed.

"Cosette?" Valjean's expression had fallen instantly and he would have risen in alarm had Eponine not been firmly planted in his lap. "What is the matter?"

"It is nothing papa, do not worry yourself." She passed a hand across her brow and gladly accepted the palm that Marius offered her from the other side of the sofa. She squeezed the proffered hand in return and looked into his eyes with her own equally bright gaze. "Javert, can I trouble you to hold the baby for a moment? I think I need a stretch."

Javert, took the baby without ceremony, crooking his hand around her neck and folding his arms so that she could rest comfortably in them. Cradled thusly, Fantine barely showed any surprise at changing hands. Instead she curled a tiny fist around one of Javert's much larger fingers and closed her eyes.

It was an unusual sensation for Javert. The tiny creature in his arms was warm against his chest, breathing slowly and steadily, very much alive. He could count the times he had held a baby on one hand, each time he had been unprepared, but now he felt just as calm as the sleeping child he beheld.

"Cosette," Valjean prompted again. "Please tell me what is the matter."

Cosette rolled her shoulders back and again winced at the apparent pain. "It is more of an ache than anything else papa, nothing I cannot manage."

"Should we send for a doctor?" Javert asked before Valjean could cut in with something far more desperate.

"No, no, please, stop fussing, both of you."

Marius supported Cosette's elbow as she placed a palm in the small of her back and stretched, massaging it softly with her thumb. "It is nothing I haven't managed twice before."

Javert glanced at Cosette, then at Eponine who was still balanced in Valjean's lap, and then towards the baby cradled in his own arms. He understood.

"We are hoping for a boy this time," Marius interjected, beaming. "And if it is then-...well, you must say Cosette."

Cosette smiled, a little wearily, but still genuine and bright. "If it does turn out to be a boy, then I would very much like him to be called Jean. After his grandfather."

Valjean looked like the broken pieces of glass from a shattered window in situe just before they fall to the ground in a tinkling of light.

"It is...? You are sure...?"

"A physician called by just this morning," Marius supplied. "He was certain that they are both healthy."

Valjean's eyes crinkled as he smiled, now wet with happy tears that were slowly travelling down his cheeks. "Then we are blessed!"

"Indeed," Javert agreed. "Although what if it is a girl instead?"

"She will be christened Jeane, so named after papa either way, and we shall love her just the same."

Javert had never had the time to think of having children of his own, he suspected the same was true of Valjean, and yet here they lived in peace with two - soon to be three - precious children who remained delighted with each visit. Unbeknownst to him, Javert had begun to gently rock the baby that rested in his lap, a subconscious motion of protection. Perhaps it was instinct, maybe it was the long tucked away strands of guilt that ran through him, connecting him to the life of a previous Fantine. He did not think she would forgive him for simply holding the baby, trembling as he did so, it would take more than that, but it was a start. Yet Valjean's beautiful smile was with him to give him the strength to hold Fantine steady in his arms, he could not shake when those eyes were upon him. He smiled back as Valjean met his gaze, small, inconsequential, unnoticed by Cosette and Marius who were gazing similarly at each other, but meaningful nonetheless.

Valjean surveyed Javert in turn, noticing the way his large palm cradled the baby's head to protect it, and how tiny fingers were clenched around just one of Javert's fingers. A lion and a lamb, together in peaceful repose. Valjean would be forever grateful that he had found the patience to remove the thorn from that lion's paw.


End file.
